


'shatter me'

by 80sGayTrashGoblin



Series: Goblin's DotU Verse [2]
Category: Voltron: Lion Force (1984)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bargaining, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Imprisonment, Non-Consensual Touching, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Relationships, Trauma, Whump, could be shippy or nonshippy depending on how you read it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:33:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27953162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/80sGayTrashGoblin/pseuds/80sGayTrashGoblin
Summary: “What do you want?” Keith kept his voice steady, his back straight. Willing to negotiate but not to be pushed over.“I’d like to cut a little deal, under the table,” The warden stepped forward, and Keith suppressed the urge to step back. Show no weakness. “You see, we’re not supposed to be giving prisoners food on a regular basis. Something about how they’re supposed to be squishy so they die in the arena faster. But some of the fools in the other blocks were talking about betting, and word is there is some money to be had if you lot live. So I’m willing to give you the nutrition you oh so desperately need, but it’s not without a price.”
Relationships: Keith & Lance (Voltron)
Series: Goblin's DotU Verse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2166207
Kudos: 16





	'shatter me'

**Author's Note:**

> So! This does get dark. Essentially I had this writing challenge going a while ago where the lovely folks on Tumblr would send me a song to write a story for. This song hit a dead end (not for a lack of ideas but from too many ideas) and then I found the perfect prompt and the words just came out of my hands. So enjoy!
> 
> Based on the song 'Shatter Me' by Lindsey Stirling. I don't know what's with the angsty fics recently either.
> 
> (also will i make a part two if enough people demand me to? yes)

Keith was marched down the dirty hallways, hands cuffed in front of him and flanked by two guards. He was shivering from the cold, and the shackles were biting into the skin of his wrists. They also hadn’t fed them since shoving them in a cell, so there was a dull throbbing pain in his stomach from the hunger. 

They pushed him into a room and slammed the door shut behind him. The room seemed to be an office, with an iron desk and chair. The walls were covered in banners for the Drule empire, and there was a locked chest in the back corner that was covered in blood splatters. It reeked of something that Keith was too out of it to recognize, but that made him sick to his stomach. 

The warden of their cell block stood up, walking over to him. Keith stood his ground, even as he was roughly yanked by the chin to look up at him. He stood as still as he could, trying not to shudder or show any sign of weakness as the warden circled him, eyeing him like he was prize.

“You’re a pretty little thing, aren’t you?” The warden hissed, standing in front of him. 

“What do you want?” Keith kept his voice steady, his back straight. Willing to negotiate but not to be pushed over. 

“I’d like to cut a little deal, under the table,” The warden stepped forward, and Keith suppressed the urge to step back. Show no weakness. “You see, we’re not supposed to be giving prisoners food on a regular basis. Something about how they’re supposed to be squishy so they die in the arena faster. But some of the fools in the other blocks were talking about betting, and word is there is some money to be had if you lot live. So I’m willing to give you the nutrition you oh so desperately need, but it’s not without a price.” 

“What is it?” Keith asked, trying not to seem too desperate while being desperate.

The warden grinned lopsidedly, leaning in. “Just a few favors. You see, it gets awfully lonely here, and some company is very much appreciated. And I’m sure you’ll be willing to relieve some of this tension.” 

Keith’s face paled, and he stepped back on reflex when the warden stepped towards him. Keith was about to protest, but the warden pressed a finger to his lips. “Remember the deal. Your body, for their food. And as one additional caveat, you can’t tell them what’s happening in here, or I stop food altogether.” 

Keith grit his teeth as he thought about it. If they had any chance of escaping, they needed to be getting food regularly. He needed to bite the bullet for his team. They were depending on him. 

“Fine,” he huffed quickly.

The warden’s eyes lit up, and he stepped back, pressing a button on his desk. “Bring food to the prisoners in cell 23,” he said briskly, then lifted his hand off the button, causing the static to fizzle out. 

Keith grit his teeth as the drule stalked over to him, a hunger in his eyes. He braced himself for what was coming.

* * *

The warden made good on his promise. Every day, food would be brought to them at the same time, and every day, he was pulled out at the same time. It was like clockwork. 

The others were concerned about him. But he couldn’t tell them anything. They needed the food. That’s what he kept repeating to himself. He’s doing what he needs to for his team. 

Anyone who said that it would hurt less after the first time is a liar. It was worse the next time. And the next. And the next. Sometimes afterwards the guards even took turns. He’s puked in the same spot in the hallway more times than he can count. He was in too much pain to really think straight, or do anything much. 

He tried to use his time leaving and entering as wisely as possible, keeping a steady watch on his surroundings to try and mentally map the place and plan an escape route. But the torture they put him through is too much for his brain to keep ahold of all of those pieces. His brain was scrambled. 

He knew the others were concerned about him. He tried to keep up a positive act around the others to keep spirits, but the others have known him for so long that he doesn’t think it’s working. 

He sat in their cell, huddled up next to Lance for warmth. He tried to clear his mind of everything else, and solely focus on his breathing, the feeling of Lance’s warmth. He needed his mind semi-sane for them to be able to escape. 

He just needed to stay strong. 

* * *

Lance was, quite frankly, terrified. 

Every day, at the same time, like clockwork, Keith is marched out of the cell. Every day, he’s marched back in, shuddering with tears falling down his face. Every day they try to ask what’s going on, and every day he refuses to tell them. 

Keith was one of those people who was an optimist. He’d realistically see the odds against him, but he was a glass half full kind of person, someone who could still see the best in a situation. It always annoyed him back in the academy. 

Now he’d give anything to hear one of Keith’s motivational speeches again. 

Lance could hear what Keith muttered to himself that he thought the others couldn’t hear. Stuff like how he just needed to survive, how he was doing it for them, how much pain he was in. He was trying to give words of encouragement, but they all felt hollow, devoid of the usual spirit. Something was wearing him down, and worry was eating away at Lance. 

He’s going to kill the warden. He’s going to make that bastard pay for what he’s done. 

They were on day four of week two (Sven had been keeping track by scratching tallies into the walls). Keith was curled up next to Lance like usual, and the others were on the other side of the cell, giving them some space. 

“Keith, talk to me,” Lance muttered, one arm wrapped around him to try to provide any comfort he can. “What’s going on?” 

Keith was shuddering, though whether from cold or pain he couldn’t tell. “I- I can’t say.”

“Why not?” Lance tried to stay gentle and calm, even though they’ve had this conversation a million times before, and it always ended the same way. 

This time, instead of shaking his head and repeated ‘I can’t’ over and over again, Keith simply huddled closer. “He’ll just cut off what food we get completely if I say.” 

Lance shuddered, pulling his best friend closer. “Well, what can you say?” 

He could see the gears turning in Keith’s head, as he furrowed his eyebrows. “That first day, the warden made a deal with me. Normally they want to have meals be sporadic so that we die in the arena, but he was willing to give us food regularly if- if I-” Keith just shook his head, curling up further. 

Lance pulled him closer, slinging his jacket around his arms. “Keith, you didn’t have to take that deal. We would’ve made it, as long as we stuck together.” 

Keith shook his head again. “I had to. We needed the energy if we stood a chance of getting out of here. I had to take it. I had to.” 

Lance hated the way he looked so small, hated the haunted look in his eyes, hated that the Drule did this to him. All Lance could do was pull him close and hope to provide some sort of comfort among the pain. 

* * *

Somehow, against all odds, they had made it out. They had managed to survive arena battles, crash landing on another planet, and getting thrust into giant metal lions and told to fight. Luckily, Explorer Team 404 were masters in the art of bullshit, so they were all still in one piece at the end of the day. 

They all decided to stay in rooms together, because they had gotten used to associating safety with numbers. Hunk, Pidge and Sven got one and Keith and Lance got another. They needed it for the peace of mind. 

Keith and Lance sat on the same bed, like they were back in the academy. A blanket draped over both of them, with both of them in pajamas like it was a sleepover and they weren’t escaped prisoners. They could pretend for a little bit like they were back on Earth, in happier times. 

But there was one thing that stood out painfully between then and now. The way Keith curled up on himself, the way he clung to Lance like he might disappear, the haunted look in his eyes. They needed to talk about this. 

“Keith,” Lance said gently. “We need to talk.” 

“About, what was going on, back when we were…?”

“Yeah, yeah.” 

Keith inhaled with a shuddering breath, blinking back tears. “We made a deal. Food, for- for-”

“For what?” Lance muttered.

Keith screwed his eyes shut, voice going quiet. “For my body.” 

The room went quiet. Lance felt like the air was knocked out of his lungs. Keith was tense, and Lance wasn’t much better. Lance swallowed, trying to remember to breathe again. “Keith,” he said quietly, a slight tremor in his voice. “Did he rape you?” 

He saw Keith freeze up, his breathing picking up speed as his hands shook. There were a few tense moments, before he nodded curtly.

“Keith, breathe, please breathe,” Lance said reassuringly, about to rest a hand on his back before deciding against it. “Breathe with me. In for four. Out for four. In for four. Out for four.” 

Keith was trying, but he was still panicking. Lance didn’t know what exactly happened, but he knew that Keith felt safe when Lance’s jacket around his shoulders. So Lance got up, snatching his jacket off of a bed post and coming back, draping it around Keith’s shoulders. 

The change was immediate. His eyes widened, and he held his breath, simply curling his fingers into the jacket. He pulled the jacket around him, finally allowing himself to breathe again after a few moments, and shuddering. His breathing was more even now, and Lance held his hand out. 

Keith ignored it entirely, barreling into him and wrapping himself around Lance. Lance froze up, then relaxed, pulling Keith closer and rubbing his shoulders. He could feel tears soaking into Lance’s pajama top, could feel Keith shake as he sobbed, and all Lance could do is try and comfort him. Keith had curled his fingers into Lance’s pajama top, and the pain from his nails digging into his skin kept Lance out of his own head. 

Lance didn’t know how long he held him, but eventually Keith’s sobs faded out, until he was chasing away the occasional hiccup with his face still buried in Lance’s neck. Keith pulled back, and Lance held his hands, rubbing circles into his palms to try and keep him grounded. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Lance asked hesitantly. He wasn’t really sure he wanted to know, but he didn’t want Keith to just bottle it up. And he didn’t want Keith to be alone anymore. 

“I- yeah, yeah.” Keith took a deep breath in, eyes locked on the hands in his lap. “It was every day, like clockwork, that he- well- you know. Sometimes the guards escorting me decided- decided to take- to take turns too.”

Keith was shaking again, and tears were gathering in his eyes. He pulled his hands away to wipe them away. “It was- so, so painful. I tried to- I tried to keep myself sane, keep myself optimistic, but- it was so fucking hard. I tried to make it- make it look like I was doing fine- but- but-”

Lance pulled Keith back into his arms again. Keith clung to him, shaking like a leaf in the wind, while Lance muttered ‘I’m sorry’ over and over again.

“God, Keith, you’re just-” Lance was starting to ramble, let his tongue loosen to try and help. “You’re so amazing, you know? You don’t fucking deserve this. I’ll kill that son of bitch myself. I’ll kill all of them. I- I might have killed some of them already, well I’ll kill them again. You don’t deserve any of this. We’ll defeat the galra, kick the drule’s ass, and they won’t harm anyone ever again.”

Keith pulled back, frantically wiping tears with the palm of his hands, and laughed bitterly. “Thank you,” he whispered, gratitude echoing in his voice. 

Lance looked over at the clock, realizing that it was quite late. “You’ll feel better if you get some sleep.” 

Keith nodded, although he didn’t move off of the bed. “I- I know it’s-” He huffed, shaking his head. “Nevermind. It’s a dumb idea.” 

“What?” Lance whispered. “What is it?” 

Keith looked back down at his hands. “Can I stay here? With you? In the same bed? I know it sounds ridiculous, but I- I feel safer when you’re nearby.” 

Lance nodded, scooting over to make room. He lifted up the blankets to let Keith, who slipped in and immediately wrapped himself around Lance. Lance hesitated, before wrapping his arms around him, letting his chin rest on top of Keith’s head. They both finally relaxed, letting the tension seep from their muscles. 

Lance muttered something that he wouldn’t remember the next morning, but that Keith would remember. 

“I promise I’ll keep you safe.” 


End file.
